


Rise Book

by OrangeMeringue



Category: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Family Bonding, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, honestly who knows what I'm gonna write certainly not me, just a fun little one-shot book :), no ships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:42:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27193954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrangeMeringue/pseuds/OrangeMeringue
Summary: This is just a book of different one-shot fic ideas for Rise of The TMNT, made so I have a place to put all the writing I don't want to make full stories for. Most of these will require no context other than the show (mainly just family bonding and some events I imagine took place between episodes)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 41





	1. Introduction

Hello! 

As mentioned in the summary, this is going to be a place for me to dump short ideas for one-shots I come up with. In the future, I'll probably also post a few one-shots for other fics I've finished/plan to write, but given that most of you are probably here after reading my first fic, Lost And Found, that shouldn't be too annoying for you guys. 

You can feel free to comment ideas you have that you'd like me to write, but there's no guarantee I'll get to them. If I do, however, I'll make sure to credit you in the chapter! 

Anyway, this is just a quick introduction so I'm able to get this out there and start working on some ideas I have. Hopefully I'll be able to put an update out sometime later this week! 


	2. Fear of Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raph has a hard time keeping his head above the metaphorical water after a certain incident at the Grand Nexus Hotel. Thankfully, one of his brothers is in the same boat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings (just in case): Brief mentions of heights and falling, a mild anxiety attack

Raph had never been afraid of heights. 

Raph didn’t do “afraid”, actually. He was a fearless, disciplined leader with a mind of steel and a heart of gold. At least, that was the image he tried so desperately to put out.

But Raph was not all those things. He was not an amazing leader, he was not a great thinker, and he was certainly not fearless. Nevertheless, there had never been a point in time where he was afraid of heights. 

Not until today. Not until he and his brothers were captured by Big Mama, not until Draxum came crashing in to steal back his oozesquitos, and not until the alchemist threatened to drop his brother off the roof. 

And then he did. And Raph was afraid. 

He forgot everything as he raced to save Leo. He tossed the oozesquitos and flung himself off the roof and after his brother without a second thought. And at that moment, Raph was terrified of heights. The distance between himself and the ground had never been so violently  _ jarring _ . His stomach lurched as he fell, blinded by tears and wind, then something miraculous happened. 

The magic from his tonfas burst to life. A blast of red magic shot from his hands and curled around him, creating an even bigger Raph for only a few seconds. It quickly passed Leo and broke the real Raph’s fall, then caught his brother in its super-sized hands before dissipating just as fast as it had appeared. Raph had no idea how he had done it, but what unsettled him even more was the fact that he hadn’t  _ done _ anything himself. Without his mystic weapon, Leo would have become a blue and green splat on the street below Big Mama’s hotel. It scared Raph, that they had been seconds away from that. 

Splat. 

Even now, hours later, when everyone was safe back at the lair and had long since split off to go to sleep, Raph was laying in bed wide awake, stuffed bear cradled loosely against his plastron, eyelids unbearably heavy, yet unable to close. 

He had been replaying the day in his head ever since he’d settled down to rest -everything he’d done wrong, all the mistakes he’d made, etcetera. It all seemed so obvious now that he’d gone through it, and he couldn’t help but think how much would have changed if he’d made better decisions as a leader. If he’d just listened to his team. If he’d just listened to Leo. 

Raph let out a quiet sigh, running his thumbs anxiously over the material of his stuffed bear. He was sure that the small, sentimental stuffie was the only thing keeping his anxious thoughts in check, but every time he thought back to what had happened on the roof, he tensed and found it harder and harder to breathe. 

...Alright. Maybe he didn’t need to force himself to fall asleep just yet. 

So, groggily, Raph pushed himself up, taking the time to carefully tuck his plushie into bed beside him before getting to his feet and heading out the door. He didn’t even bother donning his mask or armor pads before he went. He didn’t expect to be gone long. 

Raph moved sluggishly as he made his way through the lair’s halls. Apart from his own footsteps and the occasional rush of water through distant pipes, there was a rare quiet that hung in the air of the home, and it was peaceful. Raph loved his brothers, but they could get loud, and sometimes it was just nice to wander, the only one awake, a strong, silent guardian on guard to protect his family. 

At least, Raph  _ thought _ he was the only one awake. 

Upon arriving at the entrance to the kitchen, the oldest brother was surprised to hear the whistle of the family tea kettle from inside. Poking his head in through the doorway, Raph watched as a blue-sleeved hand shut off the stove and took the kettle off the heat, pouring the contents into a cup before placing it back on one of the non-active burners. 

Raph wasn’t sure why he was surprised that Leo was the one awake. 

The red-clad turtle quietly made his way into the kitchen as his younger brother began stirring a tea bag in his water, chin resting on the palm of his hand. Even with Leo’s back turned to him, Raph could tell he was exhausted. 

“Can’t sleep, ey?” 

Raph’s greeting made Leo jump, whipping around as he fumbled to keep himself steady in front of the counter, but once he saw who was standing in the doorway, he relaxed.

“Sorry- sorry,” Raph said, “didn’t mean to scare you.” 

He really hadn’t. Leo was famously clumsy at the worst of times, but he was hardly ever jumpy. Something had gotten to him, and it didn’t take someone with a Donnie-level IQ to figure out what that was. 

But Raph decided to spare his brother from his overprotective nature and not bring it up right away. 

“Jeez- you’d think the guy who literally  _ lumbers _ everywhere he goes would be easier to hear,” Leo muttered, raising his mug to his lips, making a sour face upon realizing he hadn’t added any creamer. 

“Ey, I can be sneaky when I want,” Raph said, “that’s just part of being a good ninja.” 

Leo gave him a shrug, abandoning his tea in favor of digging the small carton of creamer from the fridge before pouring a generous helping into his cup. 

“You, uh...want some tea with that creamer?” Raph asked, deciding to go with Leo’s typical method of lessening an awkward conversation: humor. 

But his brother just glared, squeezing the carton and causing the rest of the creamer to fill his cup, creating a concerningly disproportionate amount of cream to tea, all to spite Raph’s teasing. 

Obviously, his brother was in a mood. He’d likely made a beeline for the tea as soon as he’d woken up, and hadn’t been in the kitchen very long. He was still groggy, and his mood only continued to drop as he forced himself to nurse his cup of creamer, obviously cringing at the taste, but too proud to admit it. 

They were getting nowhere skirting around the issue that was at the forefront of both their minds. 

“...Nightmare or ‘somnia?” Raph asked quietly, staring at the island counter in front of him instead of looking directly at Leo. 

“...Nightmare,” his brother answered quietly. 

Raph had half expected him to dodge around the question about his health like he usually would have, but apparently his exhaustion made it the perfect time to talk about feelings. 

“Wanna tell me about it?” Raph asked, cradling his arms against his plastron as his gaze shifted to Leo. His brother was making exaggerated slurping sounds now, a bit of his humor rearing its head as he held back a gag from the taste of pure creamer. 

“Nothing I can’t handle, man,” Leo said, giving Raph his signature smirk. 

There he was: classic Leo, trying to deflect his problems. 

“Sure you can,” Raph said, and meant it, “just offering, you know. ‘Cuz I ain’t leaving ‘till you talk to me.” 

Leo glared, and Raph smiled. His brother needed to vent: he was going to stand his ground. 

“Just...getting tossed off a roof by your mad scientist ‘creator’ probably isn't great for the psyche,” Leo muttered into his cup. 

Raph sighed. He had been right. They  _ were _ both hung up on the same thing.

“I’m fine now, obvi, but, like...that’s kinda messed up. I mean, I get tossed off stuff all the time, but for some reason  _ this _ gets me? Pick a struggle, dude.” 

Raph snorted, and he saw Leo smile at his response. He always did hold pride in being able to make his brothers laugh. 

“I get what you mean,” Raph said, “I mean, you guys do stupid stuff and get in trouble all the time- why’d Draum throwing you off a roof make me panic ten times more?” 

A beat of silence. 

“...Hey, let me ask  _ you _ : why aren’t you asleep?” 

Raph froze. 

Crap. Had he accidentally slipped and let some of his anxieties through? Raph had never been against talking about his feelings, but this was supposed to be about Leo.  _ He _ was the one that had gotten thrown off the roof, after all. 

“Just couldn’t get to sleep is all,” Raph said, “nothing big.” 

But his hands were shaking. God- why were his hands shaking? 

“Hey, you okay, man?” 

Suddenly Raph was fighting to hold his feelings in. He was determined not to make this about him, but Leo was giving him such a genuine expression, tea long forgotten, attention now focused on his brother. Then he moved to lean beside Raph, nudging his shoulder against his arm, and Raph couldn’t do it anymore. 

“You...you could’ve  _ died _ , Leo.” 

His brother seemed taken back by the sudden shakiness of his voice. 

“Yeah, man, but I didn’t-”

“You almost did. What if I hadn’t been there? Or what if I’d dropped my tonfas, or- or they didn’t work?! We would’ve both bit it, and Mike and Don would be alone, and Dad would-”

“Hey, hey, hey-”

“You freaked me out, Leo! You scared me, and I don’t know what I’d do if-”

“Raph, you gotta  _ breathe _ .” 

He hadn’t even realized it until Leo pointed it out, but his breathing had become rough and uneven, heartbeat painfully fast, heat rising in his cheeks even as he attempted to calm himself down. 

“You got it. Just breathe.” 

So he did, feeling awkward resting his hands in Leo’s, taking deep, labored breaths as his brother reassured him. 

“I’m here. I’m not anywhere else, not on the roof, not with Draxum, not horribly mangled on a New York City street-”

“ _ Leo _ .”

“I’m  _ fine _ . I’m a little sleep-deprived, but I’m alright...alright?” 

Considering that Raph’s hands were no longer shaking and it was getting increasingly easier and easier to breathe, he could only assume he was feeling better, too. 

“Alright,” he said, and Leo released his hands. 

A silence fell between the two as Raph steadied his heart, feeling a much-needed sense of calm begin to settle over him with his brother by his side. 

“You’re right, you know,” Leo said, “it could’ve ended horribly. But it didn’t. Because of  _ you _ . You jumped off after me, man, and yeah, you didn’t know your weapons were gonna go all glowy magic mode, but you didn’t care! You saved me anyway, because that’s what a good big brother does, and  _ you’re _ a good big brother.” 

Raph couldn’t help but smile, and he had a feeling Leo had planned it that way. 

“Come on, man, say it.”

“Leave me alone.” 

“Aw, no, you’re smiling! Say it! I’m not gonna stop bothering you until you say it!” 

He began poking Raph in the plastron, but was quickly shoved away. 

“Alright, alright! I’m a good big brother.” 

“That’s what I like to hear! Alright!” 

Raph shoved Leo lightly in the shoulder, and the younger brother spun off to return to his mug, giving it a bitter look when he remembered what was in it.

“Uh, hey...thanks,” Raph said, “I’m really glad you’re okay.” 

“‘Course man,” Leo said, likely only paying half-attention as he swirled the contents of his cup in hand, “...you think Dad will yell at me for wasting half a container of creamer if I pour this out?” 

Raph shrugged, “I ain’t gonna snitch.” 

“Cool, cool, cool,” Leo said, tipping the mug to begin pouring the contents down the sink, “I’ll just frame Donnie or something. You know he likes making vanilla cream caramel fluffy unicorn frappuccinos or whatever as his guilty pleasure.” 

Raph snorted, then cringed silently at the mixture of liquid that slowly began to drain through the sink as Leo placed his cup back on the counter. 

“Well, since neither of us are getting any kind of sleep tonight...JJ marathon?” Leo suggested. 

“You read my mind, Lee.” 

“Alright! I’ll go set up. But if Dad catches us, I’m 100% telling him it was your idea.” 

With that, the younger turtle turned and bounded out of the kitchen, now filled with new, refreshing energy, despite not having drunk any of his caffeine. 

Raph let out a quiet sigh, taking a moment to bask in the calm of the kitchen before following his brother. The smell of earl gray was prominent in the air, as was the distant aroma of the leftover pizza they’d had for lunch. The familiarity of it was almost calming, and, listening to the sounds of Leo powering on the projector in the living room, Raph felt more at peace than he had for almost the whole day. 

Maybe, just maybe, it was okay that Raph wasn’t a perfect leader. Sometimes his family didn’t need a leader. Sometimes they just needed Raph. And sometimes Raph just needed them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I genuinely can't remember ever seeing a full fic (and rarely any one-shots) from Raph's perspective, so this book is gonna have a lot of Raph content, just so I can get more used to writing him for a possible future story...  
> Anyway, yes, there are several headcanons in here (most of which were heavily inspired by other peoples' aalsdjkfh), but I had a lot of fun incorporating them! This was really nice to write


	3. I Ain't Afraid of No Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Halloween special! 
> 
> April decides to go ghost hunting the night before All Hallows' Eve, and takes one of her best friends along for the ride. But it doesn't go at all how either of them expect.

It was the Eve of Halloween, and April had a plan. 

She had been wanting to enact it for a while -ever since her adventure with Leo and Mikey to find the Gumbus- and tonight was the night. Of course, Halloween night itself would have provided much better ambiance, but the boys had already compiled a three-hour trick-or-treating schedule, and Donnie had made it clear there was no wiggle room to add any other activities. 

Speaking of the mad scientist, April was currently camping out in his lab to try and convince him to participate in her new mission

So far, she wasn’t having much luck. 

“This is a  _ complete _ insult to science, logic, academia, and virtually everything else I stand for-”

“Okay, you see, I  _ knew _ you were gonna do this. Why do you always have to be throwing a wet blanket on my dreams?!” 

“Uh...hey, guys. What’s going on?”

There were Raph, Leo, and Mikey, finally home from the store, arms full of bags containing miscellaneous Halloween items. They’d clearly been drawn to the lab by the sound of Donnie and April’s bickering. 

“Hey!” April greeted, jumping down from her seat on Donnie’s desk as the purple-clad turtle returned to angrily tampering with his tech, “the actual not lame people in the house. Which one of you lucky gents wants to take a trip down to Todd’s forest for a good old fashioned ghost hunt?” 

Their reactions were immediate: Leo burst out laughing, Raph’s eyes widened in pure fear, and, as soon as he heard the word “ghost”, Mikey shrieked in terror, dropped his bags, and took off sprinting back down the hall. 

“Hey, hey!” Leo’s laughter trailed off as he reached down to pick up Mikey’s abandoned bags, gathering the bottles of silly string, fake blood, and a pumpkin carving tool kit that had fallen out, “watch the valuables, Miguel!” 

But the youngest brother was long gone. Well, April hadn’t counted on him volunteering in the first place. She still had three more options. 

“All seriousness though, who’s coming?” she asked, “I’ve been planning this for more than a month, stoking up the ambiance, buying the best tech for ghost hunting-”

“Oh, that is  _ it _ !” 

April didn’t even try to hide her amusement at Donnie’s outburst, turning to watch the figurative steam seething from him as he sprung from his desk and grabbed April’s backpack. 

“For one, ‘tech’ and ‘ghost hunting’ should never be used in the same sentence!” Donnie began, throwing the bag into April’s open arms before unzipping the top pouch and pulling out the two items it held, “putting aside the fact that ghosts are not real and, therefore, the entire ghost hunting ‘profession’ is an incredible waste of time, this is  _ terrible _ tech! I know for a fact you bought these off the first sucker you found online-” 

April chose to let Donnie burn himself out, going on for another full minute about the bad quality of her radio and thermal image camera. She didn’t understand a good deal of his critiques, but she enjoyed watching him get worked up over the concept of anyone close to him going out to hunt ghosts. 

“And  _ another _ thing-”

“Alright,  _ we get it _ , you’re a genius engineer,” Leo said, finally cutting Donnie off, “if April wants to go out and walk around a creepy forest for three hours looking for ghosts, good for her.” 

“You gonna come, Leo?” April asked, grabbing her equipment back from Donnie and shoving it in her bag. She zipped it up and shrugged the straps on over her shoulders, giving a grin to the seething scientist as he scoffed and muttered under his breath. 

“Sorry, me and Mike already planned to do some carving and prep for tomorrow,” Leo said, “maybe next time though. Don’t get possessed by a ghost without me!” 

With that, he hoisted his bags further up his arms and left the lab to find his younger brother. 

April frowned. Two brothers out. 

“Okay, well,  _ you _ want to go ghost hunting, Raph?” she asked. 

The eldest brother had yet to speak since the explanation of April’s Halloween Eve plan, but considering the way he was fumbling with his hands, anxiously arranging his bags, and obviously trying to look for an out, she could only assume he wasn’t a fan. 

“Uh...sorry, April,” he said, “I got...pumpkin...baking class...with Mikey...yeah.” 

It was a painfully fake excuse, but one that gave Raph enough time to slip out the door before April could stop him. 

Three brothers out. Only one left. 

“Say, Donnie. How’d you feel about coming ghost hunting with your best friend?” 

Donnie glared at her. He obviously wasn’t in the mood, but April had a radio, thermal imaging camera, flashlight, and night vision camera, but only two hands. She was setting herself up for failure if she went alone, so she was going to do whatever it took to ensure her mission’s success. 

Even if it meant stroking an ego that was already way too inflated for its own good. 

“I mean, you’re the tech expert, right?” she said, “I’d hate to leave such a big-brained boy behind instead of taking advantage of his obviously superior intellect.” 

She almost cringed at her own words, but, surprisingly, Donnie bought it. 

He groaned, making a show of rolling his eyes and uncrossing his arms. For such a smart guy, he was surprisingly susceptible to bribes when they came in the form of flattery. 

“Fine,” he said, “I guess I can tag along, just so you aren’t on your own when you get ‘jumped by a ghost’. Spooky~” 

He passed April and made his way out the door, lowering his goggles and typing something into his wrist screen as he went.

“Oh yeah,” April said, “this is gonna be fun.” 

\---

“...You just wanted me to come along to hold your stuff, didn’t you?” 

“Uh, yeah. Why else would I willingly volunteer to bring your mad bad scientist attitude on my ghost hunt?” 

“You are the worst friend ever.” 

After Donnie and April had donned appropriate ghost hunting attire back at the lair -some sweaters, raincoats, jeans, and boots- the two of them had taken the Turtle Tank down to the outskirts of the forest that was currently acting as Todd’s place of residence. Though April planned to skirt around the dog park completely to maintain ambiance, she’d neglected to bring a map, so if they happened to run into him, well, maybe they could make a stop to pet some cute dogs. It definitely wouldn’t be the worst possible outcome.

“Alright, you got your light?” April asked. 

Donnie activated the flashlight on his wrist tech, illuminating the collection of trees on April’s right. When she switched on her own flashlight, she was able to see the beaten path that led straight down the middle.

“Okay, you can have the radio and thermal imaging,” April said, pointing her thumb over her shoulder to the top of her backpack, “I’ll record with the camera.” 

“What an honor,” Donnie muttered sarcastically, but unzipped the top of her bag nevertheless, digging in to pull the items out. He handed the night camera to April, keeping the hand-held radio and thermal imaging camera for himself as he zipped the bag back up. 

“Alright, let’s go!” she said, “time to hunt some ghosts!” 

\---

It was about ten minutes into the hunt, and nothing of interest had yet to happen. 

Since Donnie and April had entered the forest, there had been nothing worth noting, apart from the occasional bird call or the echo of their footsteps. But April continued to assure Donnie that these were prime ghost hunting conditions, leading him enthusiastically through the misshapen trees, beaming at every ominous leaf rustle or distant howl. In all genuity, April had no idea if they would find evidence of a ghost in the forest. She didn’t even know if ghosts were real, truthfully. But she had always been interested in finding out, having wanted to go on a ghost hunt nearly every Halloween season since she’d met the turtles. And now she was here, and, as boring as it was so far, she was excited. 

“For the record, I am not going to be the one to comb through hours and hours of walking and bantering footage to edit this down,” Donnie said, motioning to April’s camera as she began scanning the half-barren treetops above them, catching a few brief clips of star and moonlight filtered through the branches. 

“Wait.”

Donnie froze suddenly, and April stopped walking to stand beside him, leaning over to get a better look at one of his two screens. 

“You didn’t -I don’t know- happen to invite anyone else to our ghost hunt, did you?” 

“Nope,” April said, “can’t say I did.” 

“Ah. Well, then I’m sure there’s a scientific way to explain this-”

“Give it here,” April said, shoving Donnie in the plastron and tucking her flashlight under her right arm to grab the thermal imaging camera he was trying to veer away from her. 

Pointing it back toward the space before them, April’s heart began to race as she saw the red outline of a human-like figure. 

She lowered the screen. There was nothing in front of them. 

“Oh- oh, oh, yeah!” she said, tossing the thermal camera back to Donnie and raising her own, transferring her flashlight back into her right hand. 

“You are a complete sucker if you’re actually thinking about buying into this,” Donnie said, “it’s obviously just glitched out, or picking up and transferring one of our signatures-”

“Just turn on the radio, dude!” April interjected, “I want to hear what it has to say!” 

With an exaggerated sigh, Donnie tucked the thermal camera away, turning on his radio, adjusting the dials until there was nothing more than static echoing through the dark of the forest. 

“Well, what do we do now, oh magnificent Ghost Queen.” 

April slapped his arm. 

“Uh...hey, spirit,” she addressed cautiously, “you feel up to talking?” 

Only radio static for a moment, then it began to break, halves of words barely sounding from the device. 

“What’s it doing?” April whispered to Donnie, “on the thermal.” 

Donnie pulled his camera back out with a sigh, “still just standing there. Astoundingly interesting.” 

April kept her eyes trained on the space in front of them, making sure both hands were steady, flashlight illuminating the ground, and camera ready to capture anything that was about to happen, whether in the light or the dark. 

There was more broken speech on the radio, then one word, clear as day. 

“ _ Die _ .” 

April’s jaw dropped. 

“Well, that was..” Donnie trailed off, staring, puzzled. 

“The ghost!” April said. 

“Interference!” Donnie argued, “there is no ghost!” 

A sudden, ear-splitting ring from the radio made the three of them flinch and instinctively cover their ears, Donnie dropping the device on the ground before clapping his palms against either side of his head. 

“Make it stop, dude!” April said.

As if on cue, the ringing ceased, and the radio relayed one crystal clear sentence. 

“ _ Thirty-second head start _ .” 

“...What?” 

“Donnie?” April asked, turning to the turtle as he fumbled for the thermal camera. 

“It’s...it’s moving. 

“What do you mean ‘it’s moving’?!” 

“I mean it isn’t standing still anymore!” 

“Well, you heard the ghost!” April said, “we’ve got a thirty-second head start!” 

With that, she whipped around, hooked her arm around Donnie’s elbow, and took off sprinting. 

Very quickly, April’s plan to stick together fell apart. 

Donnie pulled his arm from April’s grip and shoved her ahead so she could run in front of him, and she quickly picked up speed now that their arms were no longer linked. Donnie told her he would be right behind her, and she trusted him, so she didn’t look back. 

Blood pumping and heart racing, April sprinted right back the direction they’d come from, hoping that she would eventually stumble on the path. Her feet were starting to throb, and she was borderline hyperventilating trying to keep oxygen flowing to her lungs, but she couldn’t stop. If she was about to get murdered at the hands of a hostile spirit, she was going to do it in the middle of a bustling New York street where it would be caught on hundreds of cameras, the existence of ghosts no longer deniable. 

It was only then she realized she could only hear one set of footsteps. 

April brought herself to a screeching halt, panting, whipping around and pointing her flashlight and camera wildly. But there was no sign of Donnie. He had disappeared from right behind her. She was alone. 

“Oh, no,” she growled, “no way a ghost is abducting  _ my _ friend and getting away with it!” 

Any fear she might have been host to before was now gone without a trace. She was brimming with newfound anger as she marched back the direction she’d just been sprinting from. She had faced monsters way tougher than one, measly ghost, and if throwing hands with an otherworldly spirit was what she had to do to get Donnie back, she more than welcomed the challenge. 

“Game’s over, Casper!” she called, letting her voice boldly echo through the trees, “give me my friend back!” 

The only reply she got was the distant hoot of an owl, and a light gust of wind rustling the trees above her head. 

“I don’t play around when it comes to my friends,” she continued, “you have no idea what-” 

She was interrupted by a sudden shock coming from her camera. Static snapped against the palm of her hand and made her gasp, instinctively flinching back and dropping the camera, wincing when it hit the ground and she heard the screen crack. 

“Seriously?” she growled, massaging her aching hand and bending down to inspect the damaged tech with her flashlight. There was a painfully unfixable crack down the center of the screen -it had fallen straight on a rock, it looked like- and was now refusing to turn back on. 

“Okay, first you kidnap Donnie, and now you cost me another fifty bucks in equipment?!” she said, “I don’t even have my genius engineer to fix it, ‘cuz you took him!” 

Nevertheless, April pushed herself back up and continued on her path, choosing to abandon the camera for now. She would see about coming back for it at a later time when no one's life was in danger. 

“Alright, so you don’t like the tech?” April ventured, continuing to attempt conversation as she made her way deeper into the woods, constantly adjusting the coverage of her flashlight, moving it to illuminate all areas above, below, behind, and in front of her in a rotating pattern. 

“Well, that’s fine by me. I don’t have anything besides my phone and flashlight. And I swear to Pizza Supreme if you douse my light-”

As if on cue, the flashlight flickered and went out. 

April cursed. 

“You know what?! I bet you were a total jerk when you were alive! No wonder someone probably murdered you in this creepy forest.” 

She tucked her flashlight away and reached to grab her phone from her back pocket, but before she could pull it out, it began to ring. 

Slowly, making sure to keep turning, focusing on what little she could see of the trees around her, she grabbed her phone from her pocket. 

Donnie was calling her. She picked up instantly. 

“D! Man, I was worried! Where are-”

“ _ Donatello has met his demise. You are next _ .”

April groaned, covering the receiver and wringing her phone so tight she was afraid it might crack. 

“You better not have hurt him, ‘cuz if I find you guys and see him hurt-”

“ _ He is dead. There is no more left of him in this world _ .”

“Yeah, sure,” April said, “you may be chasing him around and trying to spook him, but I know Donnie. He’s way too smart to let himself get killed by something he doesn’t even believe in.” 

Silence on the other end. 

“So, yeah, you better pray to whatever ghost god is up there that nothing’s happened to my best friend-”

The call ended. April scoffed, pocketing her phone. 

“That’s what I thought.” 

True to her word, April knew Donnie was nowhere near dead. As much as she enjoyed making fun of him as any good friend would, she had a tremendous amount of faith in him. She knew him almost as well as he knew himself, and she knew he’d never get himself killed by some stupid ghost.

...Or she was already in a stage of deep denial. She really hoped it wasn’t that. 

But April continued onward, confident as ever. She was determined to find this ghost and bring it to some form of justice for all the inconvenience it had caused. She’d just wanted to have a fun night, but it had ruined that. 

It was what she deserved by messing with ghosts, she supposed. But she could contemplate her own mistakes at a later time. 

“ _ April O’Neil. _ ”

She froze at the sound of her name echoing from the treetops. She was unable to see where the voice had come from due to her lack of light, but before she could think to reach back and grab her phone, there was movement on a tree on her right, then something hit the ground in front of her. 

“Oh, so you have to break my light  _ and _ my camera before you even think about fighting back?” she growled, “fine by me. Glad you made it a fair match.”

April raised her fists, squinting into the darkness ahead as something in front of her began to move. It was shifting and gliding along, hiding the shadows, slowly making itself more and more visible the closer it got to April’s range. Then it was within two feet of her, and she could see it. 

A dark, hooded figure towered ahead. Its breath was raspy, and the cold aura surrounding it made goosebumps run up April’s arms. She couldn’t see anything beneath its head or cloak, but she didn’t need to. She was done getting pushed around by a non-corporeal annoyance. 

Faster than the thing could comprehend it, she drew her leg back and whipped around, slamming her knee straight into the center of the cloak, prompting groans from both her and ghost when her leg met something solid. 

“Ow!”

The ghost stumbled backward and fell with its back to the ground as April clutched her knee, massaging the ache out as she stared down at the thing that had been gearing up to attack her. 

If it hadn’t been obvious before, it was now: this thing was not a ghost. It had very solid appendages, arms and legs that moved to push itself up. It had three fingers, skin dark in the shadows, kneepads and purple accents- 

Wait a minute. 

The thing pulled its hood off. It was Donnie. 

“What was  _ that _ ?!” he demanded, glaring up at April, who was still trying to comprehend what exactly had just happened. 

“What?! What are you talking about?!” she said, “I thought you got kidnapped by a ghost!” 

Donnie groaned, “there is no ghost!” 

April lowered her hands, watching as Donnie pushed himself back to his feet, smoothing out the cloak that he’d apparently been hiding on him since they left the lair. 

“It was all  _ you _ !” she realized, “you made the thermal camera and the radio glitch, then you dipped and faked your own death to freak me out!” 

Donnie smiled with pride, “an elaborate plan only able to be pulled off by yours truly. Yes, I tampered with the tech, but I didn’t expect you to try and attack a  _ non-corporeal being _ !” 

“Well, I was freaked!” she said, “you should be glad I didn’t break your leg or something!” 

“And  _ you _ should be thanking me! You wanted a spooky ghost encounter, I knew we weren’t going to have one, so I decided to make it for you!” 

“I  _ wanted _ to go ghost hunting with a friend!” April growled, shoving Donnie in the plastron, causing him to stumble slightly, “it would’ve been cool to find a real ghost, yeah, but it wasn’t the be-all-end-all of the whole freaking night! I wanted to spend time with my  _ friend _ , not get chased around on my own all night.” 

Donnie seemed at a loss for words, which April knew was extremely rare for him. 

“I know you don’t believe in this stuff,” she said, “but I didn’t just bring you along to carry my gear.” 

She crossed her arms with a huff, signifying the end of her rant. Donnie thought for a moment, pondering April’s words, then he hesitantly stepped forward. 

“I...may know of a location in town that is rumored to be…'haunted’,” Donnie said, taking April by surprise, “the five of us can go there tomorrow night to explore after trick-or-treating. I will not interfere. We can have a real, genuine, family ghost hunt. Together.” 

April couldn’t help but smile. Apparently, Donnie knew her just as well as she knew him.

“Alright,” she said, “but let’s get back before anyone starts thinking we actually got murdered by ghosts.” 

“Ah- yes, please. It is starting to get cold.”

“Oh, and you owe me for all my broken equipment.”

“That is fair.”

“And time wasted out here in this forest.”

“Fine.”

“And therapy for the psychological damage.” 

“Now you’re just being ridiculous.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a 100% spur of the moment one-shot I decided to do out of the blue today, because I had a bit of free time and I was in a spooky mood! It was a bit rushed, but I do like how it turned out, and I hope you all do too. Happy Halloween to those of you that celebrate it!


	4. Creative Dysfunction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikey lost his creative mojo, and is now on a mission to get it back.

Mikey was, as the kids say, really going through it. 

He had woken up on the wrong side of the bed, to begin with, feeling an unusual sense of gloom and lethargy sneaking up on him as he woke himself up and threw his gear on. Then he stood, still and dazed in the middle of his room, staring into space for a moment before grabbing his hoodie and leaving to go get breakfast. 

It was going to be a slow day. 

Upon entering the kitchen, Mikey was even more off-put to find that he was the last brother to have woken up. Usually, he was the first, with Leo and his lazy morning nature, Donnie and his common collapses after attempting all-nighters, and Raph’s general slothful behavior on any morning they didn’t happen to have a mission. 

Mikey was  _ really _ off his game today.

He all but ignored the brotherly banter that filled the kitchen as he snuck around to make himself a bowl of cereal. The coffee machine had already been turned on, and the family kettle was beginning to shake and bellow steam as he passed the stove. He vaguely managed to comprehend Raph asking him if he wanted any hot water for tea, and Mikey shook his head, pulling a bowl from the cupboard above and a spoon from a nearby drawer. 

The water finished boiling and Raph poured a few cups for himself and Leo, the latter preoccupied laughing along with Donnie over something Mikey couldn’t hear.

The youngest brother snatched the open box of cereal from the center island counter, pouring the remainder of the box into his bowl before tossing it to the side, then squeezing between Leo and Donnie to retrieve the milk from the fridge. 

“Hey- hey, watch it, Miguel,” Leo said, clapping him on the back of the shell as he retreated to his bowl of cereal, “people are standing here!” 

Mikey knew he was just messing with him, but he wasn’t in the mood. Still, that didn’t mean he had any excuse to be cross with his family. 

“Sorry, Lee,” he said, uncapping the milk and drenching his cereal, “just tired.” 

“No kidding,” Leo said, “weren’t you up super late last night working on some painting or something?” 

Mikey cringed, screwing the cap back on the milk and shoving it to the side. 

“No.” 

Leo waited for elaboration, but it never came. 

In complete honesty, Mikey hadn’t made a single piece of art in about three days, much less a full-blown painting. And, while he  _ had _ kept himself up the night before in a feeble attempt to force his creative juices to flow, he’d come up with nothing, and now his art block had only gotten worse. 

“Well, uh, you’ll get ‘em today, Mikey!” Raph said, trying his best to be reassuring, even though he wasn’t sure entirely what was going on. He took the milk and cereal from the counter beside Mikey as the youngest brother stirred the contents of his bowl. He reached over Leo to place the milk back in the fridge and separated the empty cereal box and bag before tossing them in the recycling and trash respectively. 

“Sure thing, Raph,” Mikey said, giving his brothers a clenched smile before picking up his bowl and turning to leave the kitchen. 

“Hey! You sure you don’t want any-”

Leo’s question was lost in the distance as Mikey sped up to put the kitchen behind him. As much as he loved his brothers, it was time to work.

\---

“Augh- are you kidding me?!”

After five separate attempts at redrawing the same, misshapen left eye from a reference on his computer, Mikey was fed up. Despite having been using pencil, he wasted no time erasing, and instead scribbled the led across the entirety of the drawing, blacking it out as he began racking his mind for what to do next. 

After one particularly harsh pencil scratch, the paper ripped. Mikey screamed, and chucked his pencil at the opposite wall, burying his face in his hands. 

What was he doing wrong? Nothing had gone right for him nearly the entire morning, so it had to have something to do with his actions, right? He just couldn’t seem to get it, no matter how hard he tried. His mojo was  _ gone _ -zilch, zip, nada, nowhere to be found. Not only had he been stuck, staring at blank sheets of paper for nearly two hours, surrounded by all the tools he could possibly need to create something - _ anything _ -, but his usual, cheery attitude seemed to have left him right along with his creativity. Normally he would have been able to reassure himself, he would have been able to take a break and unwind, then come back later. But that was not the case today. Mikey simply couldn’t find a positive angle no matter how hard he tried, and he  _ tried _ . 

He had to make something. He just had to. There was no way around it. He’d already gone three days without producing a  _ single _ piece of art. Not even a simple sketch. He hadn’t even been bothered to make one crude, amateur, nowhere-near-up-to-standard drawing to keep his creativity flowing. And now he was stuck. Blocked. Nowhere to go. 

It felt like a brick had been dropped straight into his brain, sitting, unmoveable, and for the sheer purpose of choking off any idea he might come up with. 

Mikey let out a heavy sigh, raising his head from his hands and rubbing his neck as he glared down at the ripped, pencil-smeared page of the sketchbook before him. He closed it with a huff, shooting a glance at the pencil on the floor before pushing himself up, reaching down to pick up before tossing it back on his desk.

He stood there for a moment, scanning the walls of his room until his eyes landed on a section of graffiti. The words “Turtle Power” scrawled in orange and pink. Some of his best work, in his opinion. 

His gaze fell to the box of spray paints underneath his hammock. Well...that certainly wasn’t a bad idea. 

So Mikey grabbed his backpack, sorting through his paints and eventually deciding on five of them to throw into the bag. He then grabbed his respirator mask from his nightstand -painted red, blue, and purple, with flashy lightning bolts across the sides- and slipped it on over his face. Due to the familiarity of it, he got comfortable quickly, pulling his hood up and throwing his backpack on over his shoulders. When he was sure he had everything, he grabbed his phone and tucked it away in his pocket, turning and making his way out of his room and down the hall. 

Mikey didn’t see any of his brothers or his dad as he passed by the living room and out towards the sewer exit, which, in all honesty, was for the better. He knew Raph especially had a hang-up about him going out on his own, and, though he often made exceptions so Mikey could do his street art in peace, he knew he still worried. And Mikey really didn’t want to dampen the mood of the lair mid-day by making one of his brothers upset. So, if he was lucky, he would be back before anyone even knew he’d gone. 

Besides, maybe the fresh air would help jumpstart his creativity.

\---

By the time Mikey finally settled on a wall to paint, the sun had already started dipping beneath the tops of New York’s skyscrapers. 

He had wasted an entire day deliberating and making feeble attempts at being productive, and it had all led up to this: standing in the middle of one of his favorite graffitied alleyways, long shadows cast on the brick walls around him as he scanned the art gracing the walls, a good deal of which that had been put there by him. 

This was it. The moment he’d been waiting for. Mikey shrugged off his backpack and unzipped the top pouch, digging through until he found his favorite canister of orange spray paint- tangerine, if you want to get technical. He popped off the cap and jumped up to catch his hand on the bottom of a nearby fire escape, hoisting himself up onto the lowest level, landing himself face-to-face with a rare, blank wall. 

Mikey shook his canister, breathing in the cool, evening air filtered by his mask, then raised his can to the wall, and waited. 

He waited, thinking and pleading for inspiration until his arm began to ache and he was forced to lower it.

_ Why? _

What was the problem? 

He was ready to paint. He wanted to. He  _ needed _ to. So why couldn’t he? What was the issue? Was it him? 

Mikey’s posture fell slack, and he sighed, turning and slowly crawling up onto the railing behind him, dropping back to the ground below. He re-capped his canister and tossed it into his bag, not caring about the concerning clang that echoed through the alley when it landed. 

Maybe it  _ was _ him, Mikey thought as he scanned the art-covered walls. How could these other artists have the same hang-ups? They looked like professionals, after all, and Mikey was good, but he wasn’t at their level. He’d been drawing and painting ever since he could remember, but no matter how good he got, it never seemed like he’d reached any sort of peak. 

Maybe he never would. 

“Ah, Michael! There you are!” 

Mikey almost jumped at the sound of Donnie’s voice above him, craning his neck up just in time to see his brother’s battle shell produce a pair of rotors that carried him up off the roof and down to the ground in front of him. When he landed, the rotors folded back in, and Mikey quickly turned and zipped up his backpack, ready to pretend he’d just finished another productive day of work. He was grateful he still had his mask on: it would make it harder for Donnie to pick up on how he was really feeling. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt you in your ‘studio’, but we need you back at the lair ASAP,” Donnie explained, “Raph volunteered to cook dinner, and so far he’s burnt two pans of eggs and forced me to remove the smoke detectors because he’s on the verge of burning down the entire lair. We  _ really _ need your culinary skills, brother.” 

Mikey huffed, then remembered he was supposed to be the positive one. 

“Yeah, of course, D,” he said, “uh, let me just get my…” 

He trailed off, turning to collect his backpack, but Donnie stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. 

“Woah, what’s that?” 

“What? What’s what?” 

“That tone.”

“What?! I don’t have a tone!”

“Mikey, I like to think I know my brothers, and  _ you’ve _ been off all day!” 

“I have not!” 

“Yes, you’ve been off since breakfast. Tell me what’s wrong.” 

“Nothing!” 

“You always insist on being the most annoyingly supportive person in this family, and so help me, Michael, I am going to give you a taste of your own medicine-” 

“I can’t do it, alright?!” 

Mikey kicked his backpack in a fit of rage, cursing as a wave of pain shot up his foot. 

“What?” Donnie asked, “can’t do what?” 

Mikey sighed, resting his aching foot gingerly back on the ground, “ _ anything _ . Drawing, painting, graffiti- I can’t do it!” 

“Ah,” Donnie gave a nod of understanding, “you have art block.” 

“For the past half a week,” Mikey muttered, finally deciding he’d had enough restriction with his mask and pulled it off, tossing it over his shoulder, simply hoping it would land on or near his bag. 

“Mikey,  _ every _ creative gets some sort of block,” Donnie said, “trust me, I’ve had more than enough experience with my inventions. You are not alone.” 

“Yeah, well, not everyone just skips doing anything productive for four days,” Mikey said, “ _ you _ don’t! And that’s how you make all your cool tech, and the Turtle Tank, and Shelldon, and I just make-” 

He gestured vaguely to the area around him. 

“-What?! A bunch of colors on paper and walls?! Less than half the time?! Ugh!” 

He threw his hands up with a groan, then crossed his arms and began kicking at the dirt with his good foot. Those feelings had been stewing inside him for quite a while, and he would be lying if he said it didn’t feel good to get them out. 

“Michael, what are you talking about?” Donnie asked, “do you think I’m a better creator just because I work myself to death? That’s insane. You’re an amazing artist.” 

“Your stuff actually does something!” Mikey argued, “it helps people!” 

“And yours doesn’t?!” 

“How would it?!” 

Mikey was practically stewing at that point. His grip on the sleeves of his hoodie was becoming painfully tight, and he had to bite his lip when he began feeling an all too familiar lump in the back of his throat. 

“Mikey…” 

Donnie looked tired. Mikey was sure if he wasn’t wearing his mask he’d be able to see a pair of deep, dark bags beneath his eyes. 

“Of  _ course _ your art helps people. Have you even seen how happy Dad gets when you make a drawing for him, or how much Leo and Raph adore your street paintings? And when was the last time  _ I _ turned you down for a color scheme or artistic design for my tech?” 

Mikey opened his mouth to argue, then realized he didn’t have a rebuttal. 

“Exactly,” Donnie said, “Mikey, you make everyone you  _ meet _ happy. I have no idea how you do it -it’s some kind of weird, freakish talent- but you  _ do _ . And just because you aren’t unnervingly positive, or producing art 24/7 doesn’t mean you're any less helpful or valued. Alright?” 

...Maybe his brother had a point.

“Alright,” Mikey said, and, before he had time to back away, Mikey reached out and pulled Donnie into a tight hug. Reluctantly, Donnie returned it, winding his arms around his brother’s neck and giving a reassuring squeeze. 

“...You really like my art?” Mikey asked. 

“Of course, Michael.” 

Mikey sighed, tightening his hold on Donnie. 

“Do you think I’ll ever make art like this?” 

He gestured vaguely to several pieces around the alley, despite Donnie not being able to see where he was pointing. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I don’t know...my art’s good and everything, but...these guys are  _ great _ .” 

“...I don’t think there’s any true, quantifiable way to judge art, Mikey. It’s all relative, isn’t it? But just because you think someone is ‘better’ than you doesn’t mean yours isn’t great as well. Don’t strain yourself going after goals like that.”

Donnie began to rub his shell through his hoodie, and Mikey felt a weight slowly lift off his shoulders. 

“And don’t strain yourself in general. If you don’t have any ideas for a project, do not force yourself through a burnout. Come back to it when you are in a better state of mind. Just because you don’t work yourself into the ground every day doesn’t mean you’re not a good artist.” 

“Hypocrite,” Mikey muttered.

“Who’s problems are we talking about here? Yours, not mine. Don’t open a can of worms you can’t handle.” 

“Whatever,” Mikey said, and finally released Donnie to slip out of his hold. 

“So...are you going to come save us from Raph’s cooking or not?” 

Mikey smiled, “I think it might be better if we all pitched in for dinner tonight.” 

Donnie nodded, throwing an arm over his brother’s shoulders as he picked his bag and mask off the ground. 

“I think they would whole-heartedly agree.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Broke: Tortured creator Donnie  
> Woke: Tortured creator MIKEY 
> 
> Yeah, so basically this entire one shot was me projecting. I've been feeling really Meh about my writing ever since I finished Lost And Found, because I miss writing it and feel like the rest of my rise content isn't as great and I feel bad for not being as productive as I was while working on it :/ But, in the wise words of Donnie, just because you aren't producing art 24/7 doesn't mean you're any less helpful or valued! And that goes for any other creator reading this as well: don't be afraid to create, but don't overwork yourself doing it! Even if it doesn't feel like it, there's always someone out there who greatly appreciates your work or will in the future! Your content is amazing because it's yours! No one else can make it the way you do!! Keep creating at your own pace as long as it continues to make you happy!!!


	5. Red Angel of Preventing Harm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While the Red Angel of Preventing Harm has been thriving in his completion of solo missions all around the city, Raph is realizing he needs to create an open line of communication with the reasons he's been going solo in the first place.

It wasn’t that Raph enjoyed ditching his brothers to engage in epic solo missions, each of them more daring and heroic than the last, but he would be lying if he said they weren’t starting to force his hand a bit. 

Raph loved his brothers, truly, but they were infuriatingly irresponsible at the worst of times, and, more recently, had begun flaking out on missions in favor of their own agendas. Usually Raph wouldn’t mind, but it had been happening  _ a lot _ . They felt less and less dependable, and more and more distant. Raph knew, as the leader, he was supposed to be the one bringing the team together, the one to communicate with his brothers and work out their issues. But he’d already tried that. Several times. They just never seemed in the mood to listen. It seemed like they always had better things to do than help protect New York. 

So here Raph was, alone on the top of Molina tower, wind whipping through the cloak that was tied around his shoulders, cold night air just barely making him shiver. 

It was a known fact that Raph didn’t like being by himself. While moonlighting as the Red Angel of Preventing Harm, however, he never truly felt alone. He supposed it was due to the common knowledge that there was a whole city beneath him at all times. Living and full of people. People he wanted nothing more than to help and protect. 

But that mission was still harder to accomplish without any backup. 

Raph let out a sigh of exhaustion, reaching back to pull his phone from his pocket, checking his messages for the fifth time in ten minutes. This time, however, he found something awaiting him: a text from Leo, though it wasn’t the one he wanted. 

The message explained that his brothers had forgotten they’d promised to meet up with Raph for a mission that night, and long since passed out in their rooms, only Leo still awake, preoccupied trying to beat his all-time high score on one of the games in the arcade.

Raph didn’t even bother replying. 

It was clear he wasn’t going to make much progress out here, alone on top of one of New York City’s tallest towers. It would be better if he just headed home. Crime had been pretty slow lately, anyway. So Raph turned away from the city lights below and began plotting his course back home, dissatisfied and, frankly, hurt.

\---

When Raph entered the lair, it was quiet. Given the typically chaotic nature of his family -even after hours- this was a fairly rare circumstance. But it was the state of Raph’s home now. Quiet and bitterly calm. 

Making his way through the halls of the lair, Raph found Splinter passed out on his recliner in the living room, a compilation of strange, nearly unintelligible commercials still playing from the projector, the light casting shadows off his father’s sleeping figure. 

Raph walked over, picked up the remote, and turned the projector off. 

“‘Night, Pops.” 

No reply came from Splinter, so Raph turned and left the living room, making his way down the hall to the rink where his and his brothers’ collective rooms resided. 

Mikey and Donnie were indeed both asleep, Raph concluded, with a peek in each of their respective rooms. Mikey was curled up underneath two layers of blankets on his hammock, and Donnie was passed out face-down on his bed, mask still tied around his face. 

The only room that was vacant beside Raph’s was Leo’s, and the distant sounds of video game effects from the arcade only further confirmed his brother’s alibi for missing their mission. 

Raph should let it go. It wouldn’t help to get upset with Leo and hold a grudge. They were a tight-knit team, and they needed to be on good terms if any future missions were to end in success. Then again...Raph knew it also didn’t help to bottle things up. 

Okay, Raph had to talk to him. Communication was key, he realized as he hiked up the ramp to the second floor. He was going to communicate with his brother. 

“Boom! Take that, computer generated racing track!” 

Raph entered the arcade to find Leo hard at work celebrating his victory over one of the hardest levels of his favorite racing game. 

“Leon’s on fire tonight! Can’t be stopped! Never lost a day in my life-”

“Hey, Leo.” 

The blue-clad turtle jumped at his sudden greeting, head whipping around, eyes wide with panic until he realized it was just his brother standing in the doorway. 

“Oh, hey, Raph,” Leo said, turning back around to begin his next level, “thought you were Dad for a second there. Yeesh- he’d kill me for being in the arcade this late.”

“Dad fell asleep watching commercials again.” 

“Oh, sweet! Now I can stay here all night! Hey, good looking out, bud. You want a turn playing?” 

Leo flashed him a smile over his shoulder. Raph grimaced. 

“You flaked on another mission, Leo.” 

“Oh, yeah, sorry about that,” he said absentmindedly, “totally forgot. Just can’t keep up with your responsible big brother agenda sometimes, man. Anyway, you look like you handled it just fine. I mean, how could anyone even think of committing a crime when they know your dorky superhero alias is out there to stop them.” 

“Hey- the Red Angel of Preventing Harm ain’t dorky,” Raph argued, “besides, I didn’t even do the mission. I was  _ gonna _ try bringing the hammer down on those black market guys April told us about, but my backup didn’t show.” 

Leo scoffed, attention now torn between his brother and the 8-bit car on the screen in front of him, “why does that matter? You could totally take a few shady humans.” 

“That ain’t the point-” 

“Uh, yeah, I beg to differ. ‘Cuz why else would you need backup?” 

“Wh- these missions ain’t just about fighting the bad guys, Leo! They’re about helping people! With my brothers! It’s our thing!” 

The pixelated car veered off course, and Leo cursed as the machine flashed a big “Game Over” screen. 

“Way to go, you made me break my winning streak.” 

“Are you even listening?” Raph asked, finally demanding his brother’s full attention, marching over and placing himself between Leo and his game, “I’m trying to talk to you!” 

“Fine!” Leo said, “what- it’s our thing to go out and fight bad guys? Alright. I can buy that. But I don’t buy that you actually need us to do it.” 

Raph paused, taking a mental step back. 

“What are you on about  _ now _ , Leo?” 

“...Nothing.” 

“No- hey. Tell me.” 

“Tell you what? I didn’t say anything.” 

Raph groaned, crossing his arms and wringing his hands around his biceps, “will you just stop being a stuck-up jerk for one second and have a conversation with your brother who’s only trying to-” 

“You don’t need us, alright?!” 

Leo seemed taken aback by the volume of his own words, shooting a cautionary glance over his shoulder to make sure he hadn’t woken anyone. But the lair only remained as quiet and undisturbed as ever. 

“Leo...what?” 

Leo sighed, “you’re right, alright? We’ve been flaking on missions. But not because we don’t want to come or spend time with each other or we’re just  _ that _ lazy, but...you’re just...better at hero-ing than us.” 

“What? Leo, that’s-”

“You’re the ‘big, strong older brother’,” Leo continued, air quotes and all, “you’re responsible. You’re always on top of missions, on top of the bad guys. You can do it all yourself at this point, and you  _ have _ been. So why would you need us? To just tag along for comedic relief? Pass. I’d rather stay in the arcade and keep beating my high score.” 

Raph was at a loss for words. He couldn’t believe  _ this _ was the reason his brothers had been slacking off recently. Had they all come to the same conclusion? That they weren’t as good as their big brother? That they were, what, expendable? No. Raph wasn’t having this. 

“Leo, you say a lot of stupid stuff all the time, but that was  _ the _ stupidest. I may be the oldest, and always show up when it comes to missions and responsible things, but that doesn’t make me better! You’re all so unique and amazing- you  _ know _ I couldn’t do this without you!” 

Leo still didn’t look convinced. He kept his arms crossed as he avoided eye contact, seemingly trying to wish himself away from the conversation. 

“You’re my team,” Raph continued, placing a gentle hand on his brother’s shoulder, “Mikey’s the heart. He keeps us all going, he always knows the right thing to say, and he can razz-ma-tazz a bad guy better than anyone! And Donnie- he’s so smart! He can solve tricky problems! He’s got such a big brain and he knows how to use it to beat baddies!” 

“Yeah?” Leo said, finally raising his gaze to meet Raph’s, “and what am I? ...The face man? Is that all? Is that what I bring to you guys?” 

He sighed, and attempted to shrug his brother’s hand off his shoulder, but failed. 

“No,” Raph said, cementing his hand with a reassuring squeeze, “that’s never been the only thing you got, Leo. You’re our face man, sure, but you’re also super smart! You come up with better plans than me half the time. And you always know what to say to get everyone fired up for a fight! You’re always looking out for us, man. You know I couldn’t do this without you.” 

Leo frowned, though Raph could see a flicker of realization in his eyes. 

“I feel like you could swing it,” Leo muttered.

“See? Always know what to say, smart mouth.” 

Raph pulled Leo into a loose hug, and his brother slowly accepted it, wrapping his arms around to squeeze the back of his shell, having more than enough practice avoiding his spikes by now to know where to place his hands. 

“I couldn’t do this without any of you guys,” Raph said, “even if I figured out how to make flawless plans or hilarious jokes. It wouldn’t be the same. It  _ isn’t _ the same. I need my brothers, alright? And that means you, too.” 

Leo sighed, squeezing Raph tighter and, finally, relaxing into his hold. 

“We need you, too, big guy.” 

“‘Course you do.  _ I’m _ the big brother.” 

“Don’t push your luck.” 

“...You still feel like a round of racing?” 

“Brother, you had me when you implied I make hilarious jokes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not immune to Leo angst, apparently  
> I'm also a huge hypocrite, I guess, because despite the message I left on my last one-shot, I continued to work through this story even though I had huge writer's block more than half the time. So it's pretty short and simple, but I still like the way it turned out. Hope you guys like the Raph and Leo angst :)


End file.
